


Fade

by airamcg



Category: Gunslinger Girl
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, Missing Scene, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg/pseuds/airamcg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Rico noticed the pictures tacked on the chipboard. Half had her in them. There were other girls often featured with her. A tall girl who had her blonde hair up either side of her head. A short girl with brown shoulder-length hair, sometimes holding a violin. A pale girl in a hospital bed. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Rico couldn't help wondering, "Who were they again?"</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Post-Turin Raid. Possible spoilers up to ch95.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade

Rico jolted up, nearly hitting her head on the upper bunk. Another bad dream, that much she knew, but the details of it were fading fast. Instinctively, she looked at her hands and clenched them.

_I can still move._ She sighed in relief. She wiggled her toes for a bit before sitting up and hugging her knees. Tears soaked her cotton pajamas. Tears she didn't even realize were streaming down her cheeks. She sat still and waited, though she didn't know what she was waiting for. It just felt right to wait for whatever it was.

"Good mor--" she trailed off, wondering who she was greeting. She lived alone in that room, as far as she knew, despite the assorted objects she couldn't be sure were hers. A number of dresses a bit small for her. A Nikon camera. A golden kaleidoscope.

She noticed the pictures tacked on the chipboard across her. Smiling faces stilled for eternity. Half had her in them. A few had Claes. There were other girls in the pictures, often featured with her. A tall girl who had her blonde hair up either side of her head. A short girl with brown shoulder-length hair, sometimes holding a violin. A pale girl in a hospital bed.

_Who were they again?_

 

* * *

 

_Signore Jean, it's me. Your Rico. I'm sorry you got hurt. It's all my fault. If only I were more careful that time. Or faster. Maybe I could have got to Giacomo Dante before he got you. I'm so very sorry._

_Please, please wake up._

 

* * *

 

"Do you remember who these are?"

Rico had some of the pictures from her room and showed one to Claes. She stopped weeding her garden for a moment and stared at the picture. Then at the expectant blonde holding it. Then back at the picture.

"That is Triela." She pointed at the tanned girl with pigtails. "She used to room with me."

_Triela._

_That's right. We went to the New Turin Power Plant together. She got shot with a 50-caliber rifle._

_'Take care of our comrades in my place,' she said. I never saw her again._

_That time, I was with another one..._

"Henrietta," Rico mumbled to one of the pictures. Short girl perpetually in a dress or skirt. She tried to teach Rico the violin one time. Her close friend and former roommate.

She died at that same raid, Rico knew. But upon pondering about it, she realized she didn't have any strong feelings about the death of her friends.

"I don't know this one," said Claes, indicating a picture Rico dropped during her reverie.

It was the girl in the hospital bed.

 

* * *

 

 

_Signore Jean, it's Rico again. I hope you're getting better now. I'm sorry. It's my fault you're in here. If only I were stronger, maybe I could have killed Giacomo Dante before he got you. Maybe then, you wouldn't have to tell me to shoot you._

_I'm so sorry, Signore Jean. I'll do better. No, I'll do whatever it takes to be the best tool for you. Just please, please don't leave me alone._

_You're my only reason for living._

 

* * *

 

She spent weeks on end by his side, waiting for any indication that he would be all right. She once listened in on the doctors' discussions, but she didn't understand more than "a stab wound on his shoulder" and "grave injuries on his right side." But she knew enough: a direct hit from an anti-material rifle would have made all his internal organs explode out his body.

At some point, after one of her usual check ups with Dr. Bianchi, he opened his eyes.

"Where...?"

"You're in a hospital."

She peered into his eyes, overjoyed that he was indeed awake. _Everything would be all right now_ , she thought. _He'll be all right._

"Your face..."

He reached for her, caressing her face with the back of his hand.

"Who does this face belong to?"

She felt her heart stop. She wanted to cry; but tears could only well up in her eyes, never fall. Crying was not part of her design. She clutched his hand desperately.

"Signore Jean..."

 

 

 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's still wondering, the pale girl in the hospital bed Claes fails to remember is Angelica.
> 
> I couldn't help wondering how it would be like for Rico in the aftermath of the Turin raid, so this begged me to be written. I'm sorry this turned out not so good. It's no excuse, but I really haven't practiced writing in years.


End file.
